A World Scorned
by imawesome1124
Summary: In a world devastated by pandemic, a young man fights to redeem his honor after abandoning those he loved. As he fights through the world, his experiences shape him from a frightened and self-loathing man to a hardened survivor and a man of honor once again. After a long and grueling journey, he finds the last safe haven on earth: A town by the name of Jackson, Wyoming.
1. Chapter 1: Fragmentation

**Author's Notes: Great people of this site, it is with great honor that I announce my triumphant return to writing! I told you I'd be back in spring, and I kept my promise. Thanks to the overwhelming praise my last fanfiction "Brand New Start" got, I've decided to challenge myself and attempt to take my writing to a new level with this story. I hope you guys have recovered from that finale, because you're about to start a journey that will no doubt be another extreme emotional roller coaster. While obviously nothing can compare to what happened in BNS, don't think I won't still find ways to screw with your emotions. **

**I want to talk about this story. This is an "origins story" for one of the OC characters in Brand New Start. HOWEVER, it is NOT required that you read that story before this. ********In fact I'd actually suggest reading THIS first if you haven't read Brand New Start, because the people who have read that already know some of the things that will happen in this story.** This is merely the background for one of the characters.  


**There will be a lot of differences between Brand New Start and this. The main difference, and this may lose some people right off the bat, is that Joel and Ellie will NOT appear in this at any point. Their story has been told. I'm exploring the possibilities for stories in other parts of the world the game takes place in. It's going to be a serious challenge to try and create a compelling story with a different set of characters, but it's a challenge I'm up for. If I can pull this off, it will blow BNS out of the water. Another difference is that the writing style will not be the same as Brand New Start. I feel it is much more mature and "professional;" at parts it may not even seem like the same author wrote it, but I assure you it's still me. The themes explored in this story are different than Brand New Start, with the latter focusing more on the themes of family and friendship, and this focusing more on how a person can change through what he or she experiences. The pace will be slower at some parts, but there will definitely be intense action sequences. There will be at least three major battles, and that number is bound go up. The tone will be much more serious, and there won't be any strictly lighthearted chapters like BNS. That's not to say there won't be lighthearted moments, just that they'll be few and far between; really more like comic relief in a generally dark and gloomy story. The chapters will be more "linear" than they were in BNS. Linear isn't the right word, but what I mean is that with BNS, each chapter was more like its own plot with little linking one to the next. While each chapter in this story will have its own plot, they will be direct continuations of the one before. However, there will be time jumps, usually after some major event, because this story is spread out over a period of about a decade. Lastly, the Author's Notes in this will reveal less of what happens in each chapter. In BNS I gave a teaser for the next chapter in each closing note, and I won't do that this time. The opening notes will also be more vague, so that there will be more surprises when you're reading.**

**People have told me that it can't be a Last Of Us story without Joel or Ellie, so I want to make it very clear that this story IS NOT TO BE TREATED AS A LAST OF US STORY. This is to be treated as its own entity, just set in the world the game created. **

******Now, at the beginning of Brand New Start I said that it would be the only fic I wrote, but that turned out to be untrue. I won't swear to it, but don't expect another fic from me after this is done. **

**This first chapter, similar to the game, is a pretty gloomy way to start a story. This is gloomy in a different way though; you'll see what I mean.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Last Of Us. All credit goes to Naughty Dog.**

* * *

A World Scorned

CH. 1: Fragmentation

Amarillo, Texas certainly was the place to be for any warm-blooded music lover on the night of September 26, 2013. The sounds of dirty, to-the-bone raw rock and roll filled the Drunken Rattler club and concert hall, adding to the already charged atmosphere fueled by alcohol and testosterone. Two thousand people were packed shoulder-to-shoulder in a club to experience music in its most raw form. Their appetites had been whet by the opening acts, and they were finally getting what they had been waiting all night for: the main course.

Leatherclad: A rock and roll group made of four members ranging in age from twenty-four to forty-one. They were leather-wearing, Harley Davidson riding warriors of the road, and their music reflected their passion for riding. Their biker anthems resonated throughout the motorcycle community, and the gritty, unpolished sound of their music garnered them rapid success as up-and-coming giants of rock.

The oldest member of the band was their drummer, "Big" Gus Richards. He was a hulking man, standing six-four and weighing approximately two-hundred and fifty pounds. He was very heavily muscled, but despite his intimidating appearance, he was the member least likely to get involved in a confrontation. He had a shaved head and a thick black beard, adding to his menacing look. A large crucifix hung from a chain around his neck, indicating that he was of Catholic faith. Full sleeve tattoos on each arm depicted scenes from an ancient and eternal battle; angels of heaven at war with demons of hell, fighting throughout all of time to control the fate of humanity. Adding to his array of Christian tattoos was a picture of the Virgin Mary on his chest, a scene depicting the crucifixion of Christ on his back, and several Bible quotes on various places on his body.

There was the band's bass guitar player, Alex Baker. He was the second oldest, at thirty-nine years old, and was the shortest at just five-seven. His brown hair was fairly short, but disheveled, and he had a goatee that was about four inches in length. He was the only member without tattoos of any kind. On his right index finger was a solid gold ring that had a large lion's head with a ruby in its mouth. It was a family heirloom that dated back hundreds of years, and it never left his finger.

Julie Vanderbilt was the band's singer and rhythm guitarist. She was thirty-three years old, and stood between five-eight and five-nine, but her boots pushed her an extra six inches taller. She had naturally platinum blonde hair that was wavy and came down to several inches past her shoulders. She had a smooth but dirty sounding singing voice, and boasted as stereotypical a Tennessee accent as they came. She was also the only non-religious member, but she respected the beliefs of her bandmates. Notable about her on that night was her wardrobe. She was wearing a Stetson hat with metal studs around the brim, denim jeans with fake blood stains, outrageously large platform boots with tall heels, and a leather tube top with many small spikes on the chest that would surely deter any would-be groper.

The youngest member was a man by the name of Jeffrey Lawson, the band's lead guitarist. He stood approximately five feet, ten inches tall, and was skinny but well-sculpted. The light caramel tone of his skin and black hair indicated that he was half Native American, most likely on his mother's side. He had hazel-brown eyes, and long hair that was put back in a ponytail. Despite being in his twenties, he had the face of a twelve year old and not a trace of hair on it, and even still carried a little baby fat, leading to constant teasing from his fellow band members.

They wrapped up the first song of their set, and Julie took the microphone to say a few words to the amped up crowd. "How ya doin', Ama-fuckin'-rillo?!" The crowd of over two-thousand roared back at her, letting her know that they were doing quite well. It was hard to not be in a good mood at a rock show where everybody is drunk and the music is loud. "I hope you're havin' fun, 'cause that's what a rock show's all about, is it not?" Another energized roar filled the concert club. She had total control over everyone in front of her. "In case you weren't payin' attention when you bought the tickets, or are already too wasted to remember, we are Leatherclad from Tennessee." The crowd bellowed out again, albeit not as intensely as before.

"Before we go any further, I'd like to introduce you to the band." She pointed to her left at Alex, and gave him an introduction for the crowd. "To my left, on bass guitar, I'd like you to say hello to Mr. Alex Baker!" The crowd gave him a warm welcome, and he waved to them letting them know it was appreciated.

She turned around to Gus, sitting at the drums behind her. "Behind me here, bangin' on the drums, make some fuckin' noise for Big Gus!" Gus got an equal ovation, and stood up twirling the drum sticks between his fingers, before sitting back down.

The next member to be introduced was Jeffrey. "To my right, on lead guitar, I want you to give it up nice and loud for Mr. Jeffrey Lawson, who-" The crowd erupted into applause again, cutting off Julie's full introduction. She gestured for them to quiet back down so she could share some exciting news of a big milestone for him. "Jeffrey, right before this tour... graduated kindergarten! Give it up for Jeffrey!" The crowd went wild again, and Jeffrey put his hand on his hip and shook his head bashfully at Julie's remark. The teasing over how young he looked was relentless and frequent. The crowd loved it, and their screaming continued until Julie spoke again. "Isn't he precious? He's got the most pinchable cheeks, just like my nephew!" Jeffrey grew more embarrassed as the crowd's applause grew louder. Julie walked over to Jeffrey, who was laughing under his breath because of her teasing. "Come here; let me pinch your cheeks." She reached out to pinch Jeffrey's cheeks, but he turned his head away from her. "Aww, he's shy." The more she made fun of Jeffrey, the louder the cheering from the crowd got. Jeffrey just hoped the jokes at his expense would end so they could get back to the show. "We love ya, Jeffrey."

She walked back to her mic stand and set the microphone back on it, before introducing herself. "And last but not least, singin' real pretty for ya and playin' a little gui-tar, yours truly, Julie Vanderbilt." The crowd gave another thunderous welcome to Julie, who had finished having her fun with Jeffrey. "This is our first ever headlinin' tour in our four years of bein' Leatherclad, and it's been a mindblowin' experience for all of us. None of this woulda happened without awesome motherfuckers like y'all!" Her recognition and appreciation of the fans' support was met with another resounding roar from the crowd. "We've got a very special set prepared for y'all tonight, since this is the last show of this tour, so we hope you fuckin' enjoy it!" Another rousing ovation bellowed from the crowd before the band started playing again. Now that the show was really underway, the crowd was more energized than ever. It was an experience that some would describe as life-changing, as many concerts have been for many people.

* * *

The music built into a wild crescendo; blazing guitars, pounding drums, and a roaring crowd signaled that it was the end of the show. "THANK YOU AMARILLO FOR COMIN' OUT TONIGHT! TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES, TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER, AND GOOD FUCKIN' NIGHT!"

The frenetic crescendo ceased, and the four musicians on that stage all threw their hands up in victory, like soldiers standing victorious over the battlefield. The smell of sweat after a show was a telltale sign that they had one their jobs. They stepped to the front of the stage lining up shoulder-to-shoulder, put their arms around the shoulders of the person or persons next to them, and took a bow for the audience. A final roar bellowed out, and Leatherclad walked off of the stage in victory.

* * *

About forty-five minutes outside of Amarillo, three-fourths of Leatherclad were gathered in a motel parking lot, awaiting Jeffrey to return with their celebratory drink. It was a tradition that after the conclusion of every tour, they'd ride their bikes to an out-of-the-way motel and celebrate the successful tour. They all leaned against their bikes, and they soon heard a familiar sound approaching. Jeffrey's Harley was the loudest of the group; loud enough to make the internal organs vibrate inside their bodies. He came flying down the road on his bike and pulled into the motel parking lot. He rode his bike over to the rest of the group, flipped down the kickstand, and shut the engine off.

Gus was the first one to inquire about the drink he picked up. "You better have gotten the good shit."

Jeffrey opened one of the small side storage boxes on his Harley, and pulled out a bottle of some obscure brand of whiskey that the band members had mentioned, displaying it like a trophy. "Did I do good?" He asked.

Julie smiled at Jeffrey's score, and nodded with approval. "Not bad, kid. Now I think it's time to celebrate."

* * *

The group was all gathered in Jeffrey's room in the motel. They made it a point to give each member their own room after the final show on each tour. They had just spent four months sleeping in bunks in a hallway on a bus; the privacy was not just appreciated, it was savored. Jeffrey poured another round, and they clinked their shot glasses together as a salute to the tour, their music, and above all, each other. "Here's to another fucking kick-ass tour," Alex said right before he took a sip of whiskey.

Jeffrey removed the glass from his lips, and called out Julie for a remark she made during the concert as he sat down on the bed. "Hey, real original, that whole graduating kindergarten crack. Yep, never heard anything like that before."

"When you're so sensitive about how young ya look, it makes it easy for us to pick on ya cause of it," she retorted.

He realized he had put himself into a debate he couldn't win, so he changed the subject to something that had the whole group excited. "Man, can you believe we get TWO whole weeks off after this?"

Julie sighed with relief before speaking up. "Oh, I need this so fuckin' bad. I tell ya, once I get home I'm gonna lock myself in my bathroom; it's gonna be me, my whirlpool bath, and my good friend Mary Jane. I could spend hours in that tub unwindin' from this tour."

Gus took another sip, and shared his plans for the two week vacation awaiting them. "While that sounds nice, I got a different plan. Back when this tour stopped in Jacksonville, I went out and bought a timeshare right on the beach."

"Get the fuck out," Julie interrupted.

"No, I'm serious. It wasn't even spur-of-the-moment either. I had been talking with the real estate agent and we had already essentially made a deal, I was just waiting to see it in person before officially shaking on it."

"So you went out and bought a house?"

"It's not big or anything, it's just a small house on the beach, nothing fancy at all. I'm gonna take the wife and kids down there for a little two-week respite. My family is the most important thing in my life, so I need this to show them just how important they are."

"See," Alex butted in, "a man with priorities." He hit his fist firmly against his chest and then pointed to Gus. "Respect, my friend."

Gus gestured back to Alex, acknowledging the respect his bandmate had for him. "I can see it now. Max and Tabitha in bed, me sitting out on the porch looking out at the moon shining on the ocean. One hand clutching a margarita, the other wrapped around the woman I love."

"Look out, he's getting mooshy on us," Jeffrey said tauntingly.

"Hey, at least I have someone I can get mooshy about. I've never even seen you with another woman," Gus teased back. "Have you ever actually seen a pair of tits that weren't your mommy's?"

"As a matter a fact, I have," Jeffrey said almost boastfully.

"Oh yeah? When?"

"It was right after I graduated high school. Senior week at the Jersey Shore; that was my first time. Unfortunately it was also my only time." His voice lowered to a mumble with embarrassment. "I haven't even had a date since moving down to Tennessee. I thought being in a rock band was supposed to get me laid. Crue lied to me."

Julie saw another opportunity to tease Jeffrey, so she took it. "Well, maybe you'd have an easier time gettin' laid if ya didn't look like a twelve-year-old girl."

Jeffrey pointed at Julie. "Once again, very original. Now, changing the subject, after this break when we go back out on tour again, I think we should start writing for a new album."

"C'mon, Jeffrey," Julie said, "we just released an album earlier this year."

"And we rushed it, and it wasn't as good as our first. That's why I want to start writing way before we're ready to make it, so we have time to make it perfect. I was thinking we do something radically different, like have the album actually tell a story with each song being like a chapter in a book."

"I can get behind that," Alex said as he nodded. "Did you have a story in mind."

"Not yet. I want it to be a collaboration when we get back. The next two weeks should just be about ourselves. We all need a break from music, and as much as I love you guys, I need some time to myself."

Gus set his glass down on a table and walked over to Jeffrey. "Awwwww, I love you too, buddy bud." He wrapped his arms tightly around Jeffrey, still sitting on the bed.

Jeffrey recoiled slightly at Gus's sudden affection, and was growing uncomfortable. "Okay, that's a little-"

"You're like the little dweeby brother I never had."

Jeffrey should have been used to all the teasing after four years with the band, but they still found new ways to surprise him. "Okay, big guy, you've made your point," he told Gus as he patted him on the back.

Gus pulled back and playfully mussed Jeffrey's hair, which was still kept in a ponytail. As much as the group picked on Jeffrey, it was all in good fun, and they did love him and each other greatly."Nah, but seriously, you guys are like my second family. Y'all are just as important in my life as Francesca, Max, and Tabitha. Doing this with you guys has really brought out joy in my life again after I was in a really dark place when my parents died. I'd be lost without you, so I propose a new toast. Jeffrey, fill us up again."

Jeffrey retrieved the bottle of whiskey from beside him, and poured another round for the group. He went clockwise like a poker dealer, starting with Gus on his left, then Julie, then Alex, and finally himself. They all raised their glasses as Gus gave his toast. "These last four years with this incredible group has turned my life around. I am eternally grateful to be able to play such great music with some of the most amazing people in the world. And I hope to be able to do this for many more years. To the Leatherclad family."

"To Leatherclad," the rest of the group said in unison as they clinked their shot glasses together and took a sip. It really was amazing how quickly bonds could form. Five years ago, none of these four people knew each other. Today, they were as tight knit as any biological family, and their fellowship assured that they would stay together for years, or even decades to come.

"We are a family. Family does everything together; so Julie, we'll be looking forward to you and Steve's wedding next April."

"Just try not to embarrass me or crash it."

"Don't worry, I think we can handle ourselves. Okay, now I need to call my parents in Pennsylvania and let them know I'll be coming up there in a couple days," Jeffrey told the group as he pulled out his cell phone. "Keep quiet for a sec."

"Aww, calling his mommy and daddy," Gus teased.

"Hey, ssh," Jeffrey snapped as he hit the call button on the phone. He got a dial tone initially, but then the call went straight to his parents' answering machine. "Huh," Jeffrey said as he removed the cell phone from his ear. "It went straight to the answering machine. They never have their phone off, what's going on?"

"I'm sure it's nothin'" Julie told him. "Just try again in the mornin'."

He set the phone down, and silenced any thoughts he had of something being wrong. "Yeah, you're right." Okay, one more round, then I think we should all turn in for the night.

* * *

At just after 12:30 AM, the group had cleared out of Jeffrey's room, leaving him alone to catch up on all the sleep he missed while touring. He removed his leather jacket and hung it on the closet doorknob. He then removed his white T-shirt he was wearing, revealing a skinny but decently muscular torso. On the left side of his chest he had a tattoo of an angel with the word 'Gram' above it. The angel was holding a scroll, and on that scroll were two dates. The first was 4/22/33, and the second was 7/18/09. It was a memorial tattoo for his late grandmother who passed away at the age of seventy-six. He was also wearing a cross necklace that he kept under his clothes. His faith was steadfast, so the cross never left his neck, except to shower.

He was tuckered out from the day and the last several months in general. He was grateful that he didn't have to sleep in a cramped bunk on a moving bus, and that he could even sleep in for a change. He took his hair out of the ponytail, sat down on the bed and kissed the cross hanging around his neck - a speed-prayer of sorts for him - and laid down, taking a moment to reflect before shutting his eyes.

_Not many people are as blessed as me. I get paid to do my favorite thing - playing music - and do so with some of the greatest people I've ever met__. Growing up I always envied people who were this blessed(Envy, oh no. One of the seven deadly sins), and now I'm living it. How many people can say that? The best part is that life can only get better from this point. I'm still young, and my world is still growing around me at blinding speed. The future can only hold more blessings, and with each new day that comes and goes, I'll get a greater appreciation of the life I live._

He shut his eyes, and eventually succumbed to the exhaustion that the day brought. He awaited whatever tomorrow would bring, knowing that his future was bright.

* * *

A commotion interrupted Jeffrey's pleasant sleep. The sounds of screaming and banging on the walls from the room directly below him jarred him awake. He looked at the clock through his groggy eyes, and through the sleepy blur was able to make out the time. 2:49 AM. He had barely slept for more than two hours. "Damn coke head," he sighed to himself. He heard people filling into the hallway from their rooms. Whoever was strung out below had caused quite a disturbance, but if the management was competent they would be quick to evict him from his room. He heard chatter in the hallway, and was beginning to make out common words they were saying. To his surprise, the conversations didn't involve drugs. Phrases like 'parasite,' 'infection,' 'mutilation,' and 'going insane' had been thrown around out there. He had to see what was happening. He threw on his white T-shirt and a pair of shoes, and stepped out into the hallway. He saw his three bandmates out there, and several other people he was unfamiliar with. "What the hell's going on down there?"

"It ain't just down there," one of the strangers said. "I had the TV on, and every channel was the same. They kept talkin' bout some outbreak. Said it was a parasite that was causin' people to lose their minds and lash out. I have a feelin' that's what's goin' on downstairs."

"How did this happen?" Gus asked.

"They don't know. All they know is that it started in the cities and is spreadin' from there."

"We need to get the fuck outta here," Alex said. "Get to the fucking bikes." The group hustled to the stairwell. Something bad was going down, and they needed to get as far away as possible. Jeffrey was in panic mode, and was nearly hyperventilating because of the terror he felt. He began to zone out, paralyzed with fear, until Julie snapped him out of his near-stupor.

"Jeffrey! Fuckin' move!" He snapped out of his trance with a jolt and quickly made his way to the stairwell where the group was waiting.

"You won't get far. The military's puttin' up roadblocks all over the area, closin' off the highways," the man who spoke earlier called out as the door to the stairwell closed.

"How the fuck did this happen? How did all this happen overnight?" Gus asked somewhat rhetorically as they began their four-story climb down the stairs.

"Doesn't matter, we gotta get as far away from here as possible," Alex answered.

"But the guy said the military's blocking the highways. Where are we supposed to go?" Jeffrey asked on the verge of a panic attack.

"We'll find a way," Alex tried to reassure him, but to no avail. Jeffrey started to get lightheaded, and for a moment he thought the fear would cause him to vomit. He summoned his will power and managed to get a grip for the time being. The group stormed down the four flights of stairs until they reached the ground floor. "Here." They entered the hallway on the ground floor of the motel and made a break for the front door.

Immediately after exiting the stairwell, Gus froze and leaned up against the wall. His mind went to a photograph that was in the pocket of his denim vest he wore at the show that night. It was a photo of him and his family on Easter earlier that year. Over the course of the tour, he had memorized that photo down to the most fine details. He was kneeling down wearing a black tuxedo with a large red bow-tie. Next to him was his wife Francesca, an impossibly beautiful Latina who appeared to have not aged past 21. She had luxurious black hair, flawless skin, and a smile that could make everybody around her cheerful. She was wearing a black and red dress that matched the tuxedo her husband was wearing. Sitting in chairs in front of them were their children Tabitha and Max, who both obviously got their beauty from their mother. Their almost exaggerated smiles and perky expressions displayed their innocence and enthusiasm about life. The older, Tabitha, had black hair like her parents that was put into pigtails on top of her head, and she had on a pastel blue Easter dress. Max also had black hair, and was wearing a pastel blue tuxedo to match his sister. Back in Tennessee, the family had their own ranch that had been in Gus's family for generations. They raised horses, and the kids even had their own ponies to ride. The family was the perfect example of the American Dream. Gus could not get that photograph out of his head. All of a sudden he found himself on the verge of tears when he had a horrifying realization.

"Gus! We can't stop!" Alex yelled back at him.

"What if they're infected...? What if my family's infected?" Gus asked with his voice breaking.

"They're not infected, Gus."

Horrifying scenes began playing in Gus's mind. Instead of his children screaming with joy like they usually did, they were screaming with terror. The poor children, still so young, were no doubt enduring pure hell back home. "Alex, what if my fucking family's dead?" Gus was one of the toughest people they knew. Seeing him practically crying was causing them to get emotional as well.

"Gus, your family is fine. Now let's go!"

Gus brought a hand up and began rubbing his face, wiping the tears away. His family was gone; there was no doubt about it. He would never see his wife - with her day-brightening smile and bubbly personality; or his small children - those sweet bundles of innocence who knew nothing but joy and love - again. They were dead, and Gus was completely sobbing at that realization. He spoke again, but his words were broken because of his bawling. "Oh God... Oh-oh Go-o-o-od. They're gone... they're fucking gone. _No..._"

Alex's demeanor changed from stern and forceful to loving and caring in a flash. He took a couple steps closer to Gus and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Gus... it's okay, big guy. They're fine, just take it easy. It's gonna be okay, I promise."

Jeffrey chimed in as well. "Listen to him, Gus. You know he's right; you know nothing's going to happen to your family."

Their reassurance didn't help, as Gus only became more emotionally distraught. His mind began conjuring up images of his family turning into those monsters: His wife Francesca writhing uncontrollably as the parasite took over her brain; his kids Max and Tabitha running around like mindless animals with blood running down their faces. He couldn't handle the horror of what he knew was happening, or will happen, to his family. "O-o-oh God... My kids are four and seven. Th-th-they're too young to have this h-happen to them. They're t-too young to die."

"Gus, your kids are going to be fine."

Gus shook his head side-to-side as he continued sobbing. No matter what they did, they would not be able to pull him from his extremely emotional state. "No... No... No they won't, they're gone... _they're gone..." _All of a sudden, a door down the hall flung open, catching the attention of everybody except Gus. A man emerged from the room with lumps protruding from his head and blood running out of his nose and mouth.

Alex's attention snapped to the man, and he started pulling on Gus's shoulder to get him to move, but the gargantuan man didn't budge. "Gus, we need to go now." There was dire urgency in Alex's voice that he hoped would snap Gus back to reality, but it had no such effect.

"Go where? I have nowhere to go; my family's gone." The infected man turned and started sprinting towards them. All three of Gus's bandmates pleaded desperately for him to come with them. Gus either did not hear them or chose to ignore them, because he remained where he was and continued sobbing.

"Gus!" Alex called out as the man got closer, and closer, before lunging out at Gus. "Gus, behind you!"

The big man turned around just as the infected grabbed onto him and sunk its teeth into Gus's exposed arm. He let out a howl as his bandmates jumped back with horror. Jeffrey's eyes nearly tripled in size from the shock, and his entire body went numb with terror. "GUS, NO!" Julie screamed as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a multi-tool. She opened the blade and dug the knife into the side of the infected man's head. He dropped to the floor with the knife sticking out of his skull, and the group turned their attention to Gus and the bite mark on his arm. As if Gus wasn't already panicking enough, at that point he was having a full-blown panic attack.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God, I've been bit!" His knees buckled and gave out from underneath him, and he knew he was marked for death. Now there really was no chance to ever see his family again. Even if they were still alive, Gus would never know. "Shit, I'm fucking infected!" The group hadn't fully processed what just happened, but the shock could have been felt throughout the entire state of Texas. They had just witnessed the end of their bandmate, friend, and brother. So many emotions ran through their heads, none of them knew what to feel at that moment.

"Fuck, what do we do?" Alex asked frantically. "What do we do?!"

"Where's Jeffrey?" Gus asked. The group turned around to where Jeffrey was, but saw that he was not there any more. He had run off on them, after not even three hours ago talking about how they would go through anything together.

* * *

Jeffrey was making a mad dash out of the motel for his bike. He couldn't bear to watch his close friend get infected, and it that fight-or-flight situation, he chose flight. As he hopped on his bike, Alex came through the front doors of the motel screaming at him.

"JEFFREY!" Jeffrey did not pay attention to him. "WHAT HAPPENED TO 'WE'RE A FAMILY?!' WHAT HAPPENED TO 'WE GO THROUGH EVERYTHING TOGETHER?!'" Jeffrey kickstarted his motorcycle and immediately rode off without looking back or taking a second thought. "JEFFREY!" Alex watched as his supposed friend and brother rode off. The feeling of betrayal pierced him deep; adding salt to the wound caused by watching Gus get bit. Jeffrey had abandoned them, betrayed them, and Alex cursed him as he rode away from them.

As Jeffrey rode away from those he loved like family, the weight of what he had just done hung over him. _I shouldn't have ran off. I loved those guys, and I betrayed all the years of trust that we had built. I'm a coward. I'm a shameful coward and there's no other way around it. And it's too late to do anything now. If I were to go back for them, how would I defend my actions? How could I explain this to them in a way that wouldn't make them want to kill me? No... I only have myself now. Instead of dying with those I love as an honorable man, I've condemned myself to die on my own as a cowardly man._

He turned down a side road to avoid getting to the highway, and rode through quickly to get as far away as possible. He wasn't exactly being stealthy though, as his motorcycle was loud enough to be heard from miles away. He hoped the road would lead out somewhere, but then he saw the worst possible sign on the side of the road. DEAD END. "Shit!" he screamed. The sign was particularly fitting, since the end of that road would more than likely be where he will die. Sure enough, just seconds after passing the sign, the road came to an end. He got off his bike and it tipped over onto its side. He opened one of the small containers on the side of the bike and pulled out a revolver with some spare bullets. He made sure it was loaded, and ran off into the woods. The light from the moon was the only thing that let him see where he was going as he ran through the trees, not sure of where it would lead him. He eventually exited the trees and found himself on another road. Before he could make a decision on which way to follow the road, a beam of light shone on him and a voice screamed out.

"FREEZE RIGHT THERE!" the voice called out. It was a soldier, with his rifle raised and ready to shoot Jeffrey dead in a second. Jeffrey threw up his hands, keeping a grip on the revolver, as the soldier got closer. "Drop the gun!" he called out. Jeffrey considered complying, but if he did, that would just mean the soldier would gun him down when he wasn't armed. "DROP THE FUCKING GUN NOW!" Jeffrey backed away from the soldier, refusing to let go of his gun. "ALRIGHT! YOU ASKED FOR IT!" The soldier brought the rifle to his shoulder, but before he could pull the trigger, Jeffrey aimed his gun at the soldier and fired out of reflex. He watched in horror as the soldier dropped to the ground.

_Holy shit! What have I done?! WHAT HAVE I FUCKING DONE?! _"Oh my God!" An overwhelming feeling of nausea assaulted him when he realized that he had just murdered a soldier. "OH MY GOD!" He nearly passed out, but he regained his focus when he saw two more lights coming down the road. He froze for a second, but then he heard one of them call out.

"Shit! He killed McKenzie; drop him!" The two soldiers unleashed a hail of bullets from their rifles at Jeffrey, shots whizzing past him and striking the ground around his feet, but none striking him. He turned to run, his feet moving fast without propelling him forward like in a cartoon, but he managed to get traction and took off down the road. Jeffrey's speed and stamina were matched by few, and he managed to get distance from the soldiers quickly. He ran zig-zags down the street in case they opened fire again, and eventually came to a bridge that crossed over a small stream about ten feet below. He stopped for a second weighing his options. He was far enough ahead that the soldiers didn't have any visual on him, so he could hide under the bridge and hopefully lose them.

He ran off the road down the slope, before falling off the two-foot drop off, and ran under the bridge. He found a pipe jutting out several feet from the bridge that served as a rain water run off, and noticed that it was big enough that he could hide in there. He ran to the opening and crouched to get inside. He went back a ways before turning around so he was facing the opening. He heard footsteps approaching above him, and hoped that they would run across the bridge thinking that he had already run across himself. "He ran across the bridge!" he heard one of the voices say.

"No, he didn't have that big of a lead on us. He's still around, search the area." _Shit, they're gonna find_ me.

"Roger."

He went prone in the tunnel with his revolver in front of his face, ready to use if one of the men were to look inside. He heard the men jump down on either side of the road, lined up the sights on his gun, and brought his finger to the trigger. If he needed to use it, he hoped he would have quicker reflexes than the soldiers. He heard footsteps approach and then the sound of boots stepping on the metal pipe directly above him. The resonance was loud, and he realized that if he did need to fire the gun in that confined space, it would blow out his eardrums. He heard one of the soldiers speak up again. "This guy's fast, I'll give him that."

"I'm gonna look in this pipe right here." _This is it. This is the end._

He saw two legs at the opening of the pipe, but the soldier did not look in like he said he would. "Say again, sir," Jeffrey heard him say. He had gotten a call over his radio; that might be Jeffrey's reprieve. He spoke again, "Sir, we're in the middle of tracking down-" There was silence, before speaking up one more time. "Yes sir. Hey man, fuck this guy. Major just called us back to the checkpoint." Jeffrey saw the legs walk away from the pipe, and heard them climb back onto the road.

He folded his arms in front of him and rested his head on them. He had escaped certain death, but was that really what he wanted? He picked his head up again and looked at the revolver in his hand, contemplating whether or not it was worth continuing on with the world falling apart. _It isn't worth it. Nothing is worth continuing on anymore. I have to end this_ _now. _He brought the gun up to the side of his head and brought his finger to the trigger. All he had to do to escape the hell he was in was pull the trigger. It would all be over. _Just do it you coward. You've already damned yourself by running away. What reason do you have for not pulling the trigger? _He started to squeeze the trigger slightly, ready to end it... but found himself unable to. _No... It can't just end like this. When my time does come to die, it would have to be an honorable death, even though I am no longer an honorable man. An honorable death might redeem myself, and taking the coward's way out is not the way to do it. _He took the gun away from his head and rested his arms in front of him once again. He decided to stay in the pipe for the night in hopes to avoid any soldiers, infected, or other hostile people. He dropped his head onto his arms folded in front of him, and after what seemed like forever, finally fell asleep.

* * *

Jeffrey awoke in the same rain pipe where he nearly met his end. He had sharp pains in several places from sleeping on a hard surface for several hours. He picked his head up, and felt disappointed that he had actually awoken at all. He managed to shake the feeling and remembered the promise he made himself last night before he fell asleep. _Keep fighting. When death comes to take me, it has to be honorable. _He crawled forward until he exited the pipe, and stood up, feeling the pain of the stiff muscles all over his body. He climbed back up to the road, and started to move across the bridge, stopping halfway to look towards the sun.

Jeffrey stood on that bridge watching the sun rise up with its beams of light poking through the trees. The sun's warmth did not bring comfort as it once did; instead it brought despair. In one night, everything he knew and loved had been shattered into fragments. He had seen society collapse, he had seen a close friend die, he had abandoned those he loved, and he was now a murderer. Tears formed in his eyes as he lamented the world that had ceased to be overnight. _Why did this all happen? I had everything; I was on top of the world. Then overnight it collapsed from underneath me and now I'm buried under the rubble. I don't think I'll ever be able to dig myself out. I'll be trapped for the rest of my life, however long that will_ _be_.

The cross that hung around his neck almost all the time became more noticeable than ever, and he could feel it burning into his chest, like it would someone possessed by a demon. Only in this instance it was the cross that was evil. It was a symbol of betrayal, not faith. It was a symbol of lies, not love. It no longer served as an object of sanctity, but one of sacrilege. The God that Jeffrey had always believed to be all-loving had just betrayed him in the foulest of ways. He hoped there would be something to salvage from the wreckage of the world, but there was nothing left. It was all the will of a treacherous God who had betrayed all who looked up to Him in their lives, and Jeffrey had had all he can take. He was not going to tolerate His divine lies another second. No more.

He reached his hands to the back of his neck and undid the chain. He held the cross in his fist dangling from the chain, and held his hand over the ledge of the bridge over the flowing stream beneath him. The cross was swaying from the chain because of the shaking of his hand. _Let it go. Let it go and rid yourself of that holy traitor forever. _As he held the cross, he was finding it difficult to part with it. He had always believed God to be the most loving being possible. Could he really just let Him go this quickly? Surely there was something he could salvage, surely all was not lost. No... All was indeed lost. He could not continue living with the lies of a deceitful deity. No more.

He released his grip on the chain, and as the cross fell into the water, so did what remained of his faith. He watched as the stream carried it along - the fragments of his faith - tumbling over the rocks and being swept away. It floated down the stream towards the ocean, where it would inevitably join up with the shattered fragments of so many people's lives. "No more." He was free from that burden forever.

He turned and continued along the road; the only friend he had left. He didn't know where it would take him or what challenges he will endure. The only thing he knew was that he had to fight. It was the only way he could find honor again. He marched on the face the world - a world he had now scorned - and all its trials head-on.

* * *

**That concludes chapter 1 of A World Scorned. Stay tuned for chapter 2.**

**Don't forget to leave a review.**


	2. Chapter 2: Nomads

**Author's Notes: I have to say I'm a little... underwhelmed honestly by the response of the first chapter. I had feared since before I started writing this that since it wouldn't feature the two most iconic characters of the game that it would flop, and unfortunately, first impressions seem to back that up. I really really hate to sound needy, but I need to know what you guys think so I know if I should continue. If I'm not getting it, I assume that means you guys don't like it, and that doesn't make me want to continue. And for the people who did leave a review(thank you!), I'd like more than "This is great." I'd like you to tell me what was great. Sorry if this came across as needy, I just had to get it out there.**

**The delay for this chapter was a combination of severe writer's block and lack of motivation. The lack of motivation came from the lack of feedback, so remember that your thoughts are very important in getting new chapters out quicker.**

**Now, assuming that I do end up continuing, which I really hope to do, this story is not just going to be following Jeffrey like I intended at first. I've come up with a lot of characters and backstories for some of them, so this story will kinda be all over the place. As you can see, Tommy and Maria are listed in the character list. That is not a mistake, they will be coming into the story eventually. I also thought of a way to include another character, as well as a specific location, from the game into this story. When you see who it is and what the location is, you'll sh*t bricks. Who it is will remain a secret, but speculate away. Most of you probably won't be able to guess it.**

**And also, when I said in the last chapter's author's notes that there wouldn't be any strictly lighthearted chapters, that was a lie. This one will be pretty much all lighthearted, but it very well might be the only one. There's going to be a bunch of new characters introduced here, so get used to them.**

* * *

A World Scorned

CH. 2: Nomads

Two more shots, and another Runner went down. It seemed like for every one Jeffrey took out, three more came running for him. He emptied the brass casings from the revolver, and slid in his last speedloader clip. Closing the cylinder and setting his sights on the closest Runner, he fired once, hitting it in the head and killing it. The last five rounds he moved from one Runner to the next, taking out three before the gun clicked empty. "Shit!"

He dropped the revolver, and sprinted the other direction as fast as he could. He moved down the street and turned his head back to see somewhere between twenty and thirty Runners chasing him. He turned down a side street, and immediately as he rounded the corner, he saw a group of five people right in front of him. He skidded to a stop as they all raised their weapons at him. Six months he had survived a world that had gone to hell, and that time had now come to an end. As he prepared to be met with a wall of gunfire, the oldest man in the group called out to him. "Hit the deck!" Confused, Jeffrey did not comply. He was so convinced the group was going to kill him, he wasn't prepared for anything else. "Get down now!"

Finally complying, Jeffrey dropped down onto his belly and put his hands on the back of his head. The group moved around the prone Jeffrey and opened fire on the large group of infected. Jeffrey looked behind him and saw them mowing down the horde that chased him, and stood up and got out of their way. He watched as the bloodbath unfolded, and was entranced at just how calculated the massacre was. There was a method to the carnage that he had only seen from soldiers, but it was easy for him to tell that these people were not soldiers. The last infected fell, and the group surveyed the slough of bodies making sure there weren't any more still alive.

Jeffrey quickly studied the group after the carnage. There were five of them; three men and two women. The oldest man appeared to be around forty with short black hair and light stubble on his face. There was a woman next to him that was around the same age, and Jeffrey figured they must be a couple. The woman also had black hair and very delicate features. There were two identical twins who appeared to be in their late twenties. They both had light brown hair and moderately thick facial hair. One of them carried a large, nearly thirty-six inch machete on his back. The other woman appeared to be around Jeffrey's age. She had blonde hair that came to her shoulders, and her facial expression still showed enthusiasm for the world, despite the last six months of pandemic. Jeffrey, still marveling at how efficiently they obliterated the horde of infected, spoke up as they turned to him. "Wow! Man, am I glad I ran into you guys."

One of the twins was the first to respond. "You really shouldn't be, you know," he said as he raised his rifle. His brother and the younger of the two women did the same.

Jeffrey threw his hands up and recoiled, taken aback by the sudden hostility after saving his life. "Wha-? You guys save my life and now you're holding me up? What gives?"

The other twin explained the situation. "The simple fact is that we can't trust you. Now are you armed?"

"I, uh... I had a revolver but I threw it away because it was out of ammo. Can I go get it back?"

"No!" both twins snapped in unison. The one on the left spoke again. "In fact you'll be lucky to walk away from this at all."

The older man and apparent leader intervened. "Gary, remember to stick to the protocol."

Gary responded without taking his eyes or rifle away from Jeffrey. "No way. We made that mistake with that Artie guy and he almost killed us. You wanna go through that again?"

"This guy isn't armed. Now lower your gun and let's talk it over with him rationally."

"Not happening, Houser!"

"I'm not asking you, Gary, I'm telling you! I'm the leader of this group, you listen to what I tell you."

Gary looked over at his twin brother, and then at the young woman. He didn't trust Jeffrey, but the group did have a protocol for encountering other survivors. He sighed, and with reservation said, "Jim, Rose, lower your guns." Rose and Gary lowered their guns immediately, but Jim kept his pointed at Jeffrey just a while longer.

"Check him for bites," the leader instructed them.

"I'm clean, I swear," Jeffrey said as he held his arms out to the side.

"Shut up," Gary instructed. He rolled up Jeffrey's long sleeves checking for bites he may be covering, but not finding any. Rose checked around his neck and shoulders, and also found no signs of a bite. Jim rolled up Jeffrey's pant legs, and he too did not find a bite. "He's clean."

"Alright, step back and let me talk to him," the leader instructed. The group did as they were told, and he walked up to Jeffrey to follow the protocol. "Okay, tell us your name."

"Jeffrey. Jeffrey Lawson."

"My name is Mark Houser. The woman back there is my wife Laura, the young lady over there is Rose Taylor, and these are the Kent twins, Gary and Jim."

"I guess I should thank you for saving me, Mark."

"Address me by my last name. My wife's the only one who calls me Mark."

"Sorry," Jeffrey said awkwardly.

"What's your story, Jeffrey? Where are you coming from and where are you going?"

"I uh... I was in Amarillo, Texas at the start of the outbreak."

"What brought you to Missouri?"

"I kinda just... went? I didn't really have an idea of where I was going because I avoided all military I came across; I don't know where the Quarantine Zones are."

"You can take it from us that you don't want to head to a QZ. We actually left the St. Louis zone about two weeks ago because there was some serious shit going down."

"What happened there?"

"You heard of the Fireflies?" Laura asked Jeffrey.

"Yeah... a rebel group that's resisting the military, right?"

"Yeah," Laura said, "they rose up in the St. Louis zone and drove the military out. Overthrew them and took control of the zone."

"Jesus," Jeffrey said, taken aback. "How did the military respond?"

"They carpet bombed the zone and the surrounding badlands two days later. Anyone who wasn't killed in the uprising was killed in the bombing," explained Mark.

"Holy shit!" Jeffrey exclaimed, dismayed that the military would resort to that measure. "I... I knew FEDRA was corrupt but I didn't think they'd kill their own citizens!"

"Yeah, well they're power-hungry. If they can't have control of the zone, no one can." Mark said.

Laura filled Jeffrey in on some more of the details. "We managed to escape the city before they glassed it. Mark worked for the military so he had inside knowledge of their plans and knew certain escape routes. Our group used to be larger, but we lost several people in the badlands." Laura stopped as if to collect herself emotionally. Something was making it difficult for her to retell the events of their escape from the quarantine zone. "The military rarely goes outside the walls of the zone; the city out there was teeming with infected and bandits, even some Fireflies. It wasn't long after we escaped the badlands of St. Louis when the military leveled the city."

"Now, I guess we're like you," Mark said to Jeffrey. "Just wandering with no real destination, never settling down anywhere."

"Like nomads," Jeffrey said.

Jim then spoke up. "Nomad, vagabond, call us what you will." He smirked at his musical quote, but his brother had a different reaction, sparking a back-and-forth argument.

"Really? You're quoting songs again?"

"Come on, man. 'Wherever I Roam' is a classic."

"No it's not."

"Yeah, well, your opinion's irrelevant."

"Fuck you."

"That's incest, man."

Gary groaned in frustration, but those exchanges were typical among the twins.

"Do they always... like...?" Jeffrey inquired about the brothers.

"Oh, yeah," Mark said matter-of-fact-ly as he nodded.

"All the time," Rose added.

"Look," Mark said to Jeffrey, "I'm not gonna turn away an obviously scared man. You're more than welcome to join us."

"You sure that's a good idea, Houser?" Gary protested.

"We'll keep an eye on him until he's shown that he can be trusted." Mark turned back to Jeffrey. "So what do you say? You gonna join us?"

"Yes," Jeffrey said without any deliberation. "I don't have any ammo and have hardly any supplies at all. I'd be much safer with you guys. Thanks again for saving me."

"Don't mention it." Mark turned to Rose and gave her instructions. "Rose, keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't try to pull anything." Jeffrey looked at Rose as she approached him, and realized that she was quite attractive. Clearly six months of a collapsed society couldn't lessen her beauty. She shot him a smile that was somewhere between friendly and devious. It was the smile one would give their fussy younger sibling after their parents instructed them that they were in charge. Jeffrey gave her a sloppy, awkward smile in response, but quickly caught himself and snapped back forward. He wanted to avoid friendly interactions as much as possible, because he had made several rules for himself to follow. The number one rule of his was 'Don't allow yourself to become attached to anyone.' Forming emotional attachments to someone could lead to compromised judgment in certain situations, and it also would open himself up to intense grief if they died.

"Okay, so can I get my gun back now?"

"No," Mark said.

Jeffrey was surprised at how quickly Mark's attitude seemed to change. One minute he was inviting Jeffrey to join his group, the next he told him he couldn't even get his gun which he had no ammo for. "Why not?" he asked harshly as he threw his hands up.

"Until you've shown we can trust you, you can't be given one. Prove you're worthy of our trust and we'll give you another gun."

"So how am I supposed to defend myself?"

"Don't worry. Rose is a capable woman."

"I'll keep you safe," she said with the same devious smile. Jeffrey sighed and rolled his eyes in response.

"Alright," Mark said authoritatively as he laid out the group's next plan of action, "there's an outdoor supply store a ways up this road. It's massive, and while it'll probably be mostly cleared of anything useful, there could still be some valuable supplies. Don't expect a shiny new weapon though."

"How massive are you talking?" Jim asked.

"The store itself is over an acre. It's packed with supplies; we could probably score some new backpacks or clothes more suited for this new rugged way of living."

"I'd like to find a Ghillie suit," Gary joked.

"Stop with the Ghillie suit talk. They're not gonna have one."

"Yeah, sure. Just trample my hopes and dreams."

"That's what I'm here for."

"Stay focused, guys," Mark instructed. "Now let's move. Keep your eyes out for any more infected."

The group began walking down the street the way Jeffrey was heading before the horde of infected attacked him. "Try not to get too far away, Jeffrey," Rose said to him. "I trust you, but Houser said I have to babysit you."

"Yeah, he seems to have trust issues," Jeffrey said to Rose under his breath so Mark wouldn't hear him. Then, the other part of what Rose said hit him. "Wait, so you trust me?"

"Absolutely. I can sense when someone can and can't be trusted. I just wish I could convince Houser that you're safe."

Jeffrey nodded, appreciative that Rose understood he was not a threat. "Thank you," he said to her.

"Don't mention it."

* * *

Traveling about another mile up the road brought them to the outdoor supply shop Mark told them about. "There it is," he said as he pointed it out to the rest of the group. It was indeed a massive structure, and was styled to look like a big log house. This building was more like a log mansion, however, and the sheer size along had the group confident that there would still be plenty of supplies. "Keep and eye out," Mark instructed the group as they moved through the parking lot. A building like that would make a prime target for looters because of all the supplies it would have inside, so they needed to be alert and on guard for any potential attackers.

Upon entering the massive building, the group was surprised at how much stuff was still there. At first glance, it appeared that less than half of the store's supplies had been looted. "Well, I was expecting it to have been cleared out much more than this," Mark said. "Keep your guard up," he said to the rest of the group. "We don't know if we're alone yet."

Jeffrey immediately went to the clothing section looking for two specific items. They were items that could easily be overlooked, but would prove extremely useful in the world they lived in. He found the clothing section and headed down an isle at random. He picked the right isle, because he found what he was looking for almost immediately. Kevlar socks and gloves. "Yes!" he exclaimed triumphantly as he struck figurative gold.

"Keep your voice down," Rose said. She had been assigned to babysit him by Mark, but she didn't mind. She actually kind of liked Jeffrey.

"Sorry," he said.

"What are you yelling about?" Jim asked as he and his twin walked up to him in the isle.

"Kevlar socks and gloves. The infection is spread through body fluids, and anyone who has a knife will for sure get infected blood on the blade. If you cut yourself with that blade before you clean it, you're infected. The gloves will prevent that, as well as other infections like tetanus. Same with the socks; if you step on a nail, it could go through your shoe but your sock will stop it, and save you from tetanus. It seems everyone who looted here overlooked that, because there's still a bunch of both here."

Rose and the twins all of a sudden were very glad they had Jeffrey now, because they had indeed overlooked that. "Good thinking," Gary said.

"Yeah, good thinking," Jim added. "Hey guys, Jeffrey had a really good idea." Mark and his wife made their way over to listen to Jeffrey's idea. "Tell them what you told us."

"Well, we all know that the Cordyceps is spread threw body fluids, so if you have a knife that you used on infected and it hasn't been cleaned, you cut yourself and then you're infected. These Kevlar gloves can protect against that. And there are other infections to worry about too, like tetanus. These Kevlar socks can protect our feet in case we step on a rusty nail or something."

Mark looked at the new clothing Jeffrey found, then shot him a nod of approval. "Everybody take a pair of each," he instructed the group. Each person grabbed a pair of gloves and a pair of socks, and put them in their backpacks for the time being. "These could save us a lot of trouble. Nice going, kid." Jeffrey nodded as a 'thank-you' to Mark, and then went with Rose to check out more of the store.

The twins happened upon a toy rack in the store. On that rack were small toy guns, and Jim got an idea. "Gary," he called quietly to his brother. Gary turned his attention to Jim, who then gestured to Jeffrey standing with Rose not far away. They smiled deviously at each other, and turned to Jeffrey. "Jeffrey!" they both called in unison.

Jeffrey turned and walked in the twins' direction, and saw Jim holding something behind his back. "Yeah?" Jeffrey asked.

"You said you wanted a weapon?" Jim asked him.

"Yeah, did you find one?"

"Sure did," Gary replied.

"Sweet, let me see it," Jeffrey said excitedly.

Jim tossed the toy in Jeffrey's direction and it landed at his feet. He looked down to see a replica of a Henry lever-action rifle, only a third of the size and with an orange rubber tip at the end of the barrel. He picked it up skeptically, and inspected it. He worked the action and then pulled the trigger, only to hear a pathetic 'click' sound. "A cap gun?"

"Uh-huh," the twins said in unison, smiling and nodding mischievously.

Jeffrey forced a mildly amused smile, and tossed the toy back at them. "Funny. Really funny," he said sarcastically.

"I thought so," Gary said.

"I thought so too," his brother added.

"Hey, you want a knife instead?"

Jeffrey turned around again, for some reason expecting a serious offer this time, and saw Gary waving around a rubber knife with a flimsy, wibbly-wobbly blade.

Jeffrey scoffed and continued walking away. "How about a bow and arrow?" Jim asked him. Jeffrey did not acknowledge the twins, and kept walking, when all of a sudden something struck the side of his face and stuck to it. He reached to his cheek to pull whatever it was away, and saw that it was a plastic arrow with a suction cup tip. He turned to the twins one last time and saw Jim proudly brandishing a tiny toy bow. The devious smirks had not faded, and Jeffrey was starting to get a little irritated. Before he could say anything to them, he saw Mark walk up behind them, and give both of them a simultaneous smack on the back of their heads.

"Stop playing around," he demanded, and then walked away without saying anything further.

Jeffrey shot the twins a devious smirk of his own, satisfied at Mark's handling of the situation.

Wandering around the shop more, the twins stumbled upon the camouflage section, and something caught Gary's eye. "Shut up," he said softly as he caught sight of what appeared to be an assortment of bushes. He got closer, and discovered that they were not actually bushes at all. "Shut up!" They were Ghillie suits. He had wanted one ever since he was a teenager, and now he had one. He removed one of the baggy suits from the hanger and held it out to Jim triumphantly. "Ghillie suit, motherfucker! You said they wouldn't have one, they have like ten! And this one is mine!"

"No Ghillie suit," Mark called out after checking out what the commotion was about.

Gary let out a yell in extreme frustration when told he couldn't take the Ghillie suit. "Why not?!"

"You won't be able to wear your backpack with one of those. Put it back."

Jim smirked at Gary, and Gary looked at him with an irritated glare. "You know you're a major buzzkill," he said as he turned back to Mark. He dropped the Ghillie suit, and sulked away.

Even though they had split up into three separate groups, they all seemed to arrive at the back of the store at the same time. There was a counter about twenty feet long, and behind it was an equally long glass case that contained close to one hundred rifles and shotguns. The bullet-proof glass had dents and bullet holes in several places, but had not been successfully breached. The glass was strong enough to withstand anything the looters could throw at it, but the group was not deterred.

"Do you think we can get those guns in there?" Jeffrey asked.

"Looks like people have already tried, but without much luck," Laura told him.

"Getting in there won't be easy," Gary observed. "If the glass can hold back a blast from a shot gun, nothing we can do to it will do any good," he pointed out a cluster of projectiles in the glass that could only have been caused by a twenty-gauge shotgun.

"I think the only chance we have of getting in there is with a key," Mark explained.

"You can forget that whole plan," Jeffrey said. "If it was as easy as getting a key don't you think someone would've gotten in by now?"

"Not necessarily," Laura responded. "When the people were looting, they were moving fast trying to race against each other for survival. There's a very good possibility that nobody thought to even look for a key."

"Heat of the moment, people aren't going to be thinking, 'maybe I need a key to get in here.'" Jim added. "They're going to try and break in as quickly as possible, and if they can't do it they give up and move on before someone finds them and kills them."

"And now we have that time to look," Jeffrey said. "Let's get looking. Check every drawer in this counter." They immediately took to opening every drawer and carefully sorting through the contents to look for the keys. Despite the combined efforts of all six of them, the keys were not found after nearly ten minutes.

"We've checked every drawer multiple times an there are no keys," Gary said, frustrated.

"They've got to be here somewhere," Jeffrey said. He turned around and saw a heavy door at the far end of the gun case. "What about that door down there?" he asked as he pointed the door out to the rest of the group. He walked to the door and the rest followed. He tried to turn the handle, but it did not budge. "What do you think the chances are that someone locked themselves in here to avoid the looting and died in there?"

"It's definitely possible," Mark said. "Gary, see if you can break that lock with your machete."

"It's gonna be a heavy lock, but I'll give it a try." He unsheathed the machete from the scabbard on his back, and slid it into the gap between the door and the frame. "You gotta get it in just the right position on the lock, and if you hit the sweet spot, the lock should break..." he jerked on the machete, and the familiar sound of the lock breaking greeted his ears. "Just like that." He cautiously opened the door and slowly peeked inside. The room was pitch black, but there was a smell in the air. It was a very distinct smell that burned the nostrils and caused fear in many people. "Shit! Get back!" He yelled as he quickly withdrew from the room and closed the door.

Jeffrey was startled by his reaction, and he didn't have the faintest idea what could have caused it. "What the hell was that about?"

"Spores," Gary answered quickly. "Cordyceps spores."

"I didn't know it gave off spores," Jeffrey said.

"Yeah. All it takes is ten to thirty seconds of unprotected exposure to get infected, and from then you've got up to forty-eight hours before you turn. Masks on," he said as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a respirator.

Jeffrey watched as the other five people put on masks to protect themselves from the spores, and he realized that he was the only one unprepared for that situation. "I... I don't have a mask. What do I do?"

"Stay out here," Gary said as he pulled the respirator down over his face. "Rose, stay with him. We shouldn't be long." Gary allowed Mark to enter the room first, since he had the brightest flashlight along with being the group's leader. The rest of the group minus Jeffrey followed close on his heels. The room was jampacked with boxes and inventory that was never put into the store, and there were many opportunities for someone to jump out at them and take them by surprise. They moved the the maze cautiously, being careful not to knock anything over and make a lot of noise that would alert anyone in there with them. The spores became thicker as they moved further into the room, limiting visibility to no more than two feet, and the awful musty smell was overpowering even without the dangers of inhaling the spores. Rounding a corner, Jim bumped into an eight foot tall stack of boxes, knocking the top two boxes down to the ground. A loud crash sounded throughout the room, and anyone in the room was now going to be coming for them. Their adrenaline got pumping hard as they waited for whatever adversary was there to show themselves. After ten seconds, and no sign that anyone was with them, they let out a sigh of relief, and continued on. Rounding one more corner put them at the far wall of the room, and in the farthest corner was a body that had been fused to the wall by the fungal growths.

"Well that's where the spores were coming from," Mark said. Now that they knew they were in fact alone, they lowered their guard. "Let's see if this guy has a key." Mark walked over to the body and began checking its pockets for the keys. A quick search of his breast pocket turned up no keys. He then reached his hand into the left hip pocket, again not finding what he was looking for. "Come on, give me something." He moved to the other side and searched the right hip pocket; the last hope for finding a key. His hand touched metal, and feeling around he could tell that it was a ring containing multiple keys. "Jackpot." He pulled out what the key ring, and showed it off proudly to the group. "Let's get those guns."

They emerged from the back room after several minutes and found Jeffrey waiting patiently as they left him. "Did you find the keys?" Mark held up the keys and jingled them around. "Awesome."

Mark removed his mask, the rest of the group following suit, and went to the lock on the first section of glass. "Okay, now which key is for the case?" He was able to dismiss one of the keys as being for a car, so that narrowed it down to four possible keys. He picked one at random and inserted it into the lock. Moving it around and trying to turn it unsuccessfully told him that was the incorrect key. He chose another key at random and did the same thing, only this time the lock turned and he was able to slide the door open. "Beeeautiful," he said triumphantly. "Alright, I get the first pick." One rifle immediately caught his eye. It was a Bushmaster AR that had an adjustable stock and tactical flashlight mounted underneath. He grabbed it, and then used the key to open the case in the counter containing the ammunition, and took two boxes of .223 rounds.

All of a sudden, they heard a sound from somewhere in the store that put them all on high alert. Someone had joined them without an invitation to the party. "Fucking shit," he whispered. "Everybody on your guard. If this guy aims at you, you shoot." They all got into a crouched position and spread out, trying to track the party-crasher down. The twins followed the sound, and closed in on the aisle they heard him in. They prepared to engage him, and on Jim's signal, they sprang into action. "GET ON THE GROUND!" Jim shouted as he and his brother closed in on him with their weapons raised.

The man held his hands up in a surrendering position, but did not go down like he was ordered to. "Don't shoot! Please!"

"GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND!" Jim shouted again, louder than before.

"I'm not hostile! I can help you, it's not safe!"

"LAST WARNING!" Gary shouted at the man, who actually appeared to be frightened.

All of a sudden, Jeffrey grabbed the man from behind and held a buck knife to his throat. "He said get on the ground, asshole!"

The twins glanced at each other, impressed at Jeffrey's resolve to sneak up behind and grab him like he did. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. How about we make a deal? I give you information that could save your life, you let me go. How's that sound?"

"I don't think so buddy."

"Look, hear me out. Okay, I got involved with a group of bandits when I really didn't want to. They sent me ahead as a scout to tell them about possible targets. I never wanted to be a part of this, I swear. They killed my wife, my little girl, and said they said they'd do the same to me unless I joined them."

"I don't believe you," Jim said.

"Look, I can prove it. My wife and girl, there's a picture in my right jeans pocket. Look for yourself!" Jim looked at him skeptically, but decided to play along. He moved towards the man carefully, keeping his weapon aimed at him, and reached into the pocket. He immediately felt the photograph he was talking about, and pulled it out. In the picture was a twenty-something woman, and a little girl who was maybe six. "Their names were Heather and Jamie, and they were twenty-eight and seven when they died. The bandits killed them right fucking in front of me, but agreed to spare my life if I joined them. I regret that decision now. Living that kind of life is horrible, especially without the only two girls I loved." He started to cry as he pleaded for the group to let him go. "I just want to be able to join them again. They'll be here soon; I can buy you some if you get out of here now. I'm willing to give myself up to them as long as I know I'll be saving more lives."

The twins looked at each other, and then at Mark and Laura. The man certainly seemed like he was telling the truth, and if he was right about a group of bandits coming, it would be smart to get out of there. "Let him go, Jeffrey. We're getting out of here."

"Thank you. And I'm not afraid; I'm ready to see my girls again." The man looked at each member of the group with an earnest smile. After he had everything taken from him, he had accepted the fact that the only way he could find fulfillment would be to join his wife and daughter in Heaven. Loss was a strong motivator for people, and it motivated this man to give himself up to save six people he didn't know so he'd be able to see his family again. He turned and ran out of the store; prepared to meet his end and be reunited with his loved ones.

"Let's go too," Jeffrey said as he turned to leave the store.

"Wait," Mark called as he stopped him. Before saying anything else, he handed Jeffrey the old rifle he had used, as well as a box of ammo. Jeffrey took it from him somewhat reluctantly. He wasn't expecting Mark to be persuaded of his trust that quickly. " That was a bold move grabbing the guy like that. You've shown you're worthy of my trust, so there's your weapon." Jeffrey looked at Mark with gratitude in his eyes after finally receiving his trust.

"Thank you, Houser," he said.

"Where'd you get that knife anyway?" Rose asked.

"I unlocked the knife case in the counter. Easy, really."

"Go ahead and keep the knife too," Mark said.

"Uh, guys... bandits, hello. Let's get outta here!" Jim called.

"Right," Mark said. "Let's go out the rear exit and get back to the road from there." The group made their way to the rear exit single-file with Mark leading the way. They exited the building, made their way around, and got back on the highway. They jogged for close to five minutes before they reached an obstacle. A massive roadblock of trucks and buses that blocked the entire street.

"Well, shit," Gary remarked.

"Probably leads to something no good if we go around and keep going down this road," Jim said. "This is the Mark Twain National Forest, right?" he asked as he pointed to the woods to their right.

"That's right," Mark said.

"We could cut through there and it would take us into Tennessee. Probably a lot safer than wherever this road would've gone."

It was a sound idea, and even if the road block wasn't a warning or a sign of anything bad, cutting through the forest would limit the chances of encountering bandits or military. "What do you guys think?" Mark asked the group.

The group all answered at the same time, so making out exact words was difficult, but they all seemed to be in agreement that cutting through the woods was the better bet.

Guessing which option actually was safer was next to impossible. Whichever way they picked, they wouldn't know if it was dangerous until they were already in too deep to turn around. Nonetheless, the group had spoken, and the consensus was to enter the woods. "Well..." Mark said, "...into the wilderness."

* * *

**That concludes chapter 2 of A World Scorned. Stay tuned for chapter 3.**

**Don't forget to leave a review. Remember: The more reviews I get, the quicker the next chapter will be put up.**


End file.
